


bow your head between my thighs

by heatherchandler (red_handedjill)



Series: Tumblr Prompts [14]
Category: Heathers: The Musical - Murphy & O'Keefe
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/F, Oral Sex, Period-Typical Homophobia, Resolved Sexual Tension, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-10
Updated: 2015-11-10
Packaged: 2018-05-01 01:28:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5186993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/red_handedjill/pseuds/heatherchandler
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Even the queen worships sometimes.</p><p>OR, really Veronica fucks two people that night. — chansaw</p>
            </blockquote>





	bow your head between my thighs

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah I'm sorry this exists and was written this way. I blame Tumblr.

It’s an honest to god mistake, she swears once it’s all over and done with. The stupid pinata is floating in a pool and Martha is going home and it sounds fine when she thinks of it like that. Then she remembers the seething Heather Chandler and the hand on her throat and her back against a wall. Fuck.

She’s really fucked up this time.

She can’t even leave the stupid party properly. If she leaves her bag they’ll wreck it and steal her wallet. Why on earth she let Ram take it from her when she came in she doesn’t know but she needs to find it.

In a drunken haze, she finds herself … In some room that Ram and Kurt have probably fucked Heather, Heather, and Heather in before. Which is a gross thought. Her bag is right there, on the bedside table (along with all three of the Heathers’ bags). She stumbles forward, tripping over her shoes.

Then the door swings open and Heather Chandler steps in, looking as ready to kill as ever. Veronica turns on her heel almost too quickly to catch a glimpse after recognizing the shadow (it’s the legs and the hair she knows).

“Well, well, Veronica. Still here?” The blonde sneers, hands on her hips. She’s still pissed off and she’s still really fucking hot when she’s pissed off.

Veronica groans, she’s not in the mood to die tonight. “Heather,” she starts, more hopeful than she should be, “can we just  talk—”

“Save it. It’s too late for talking, you made your choice,” she growls, pushing Veronica back slightly.

Oh. So Veronica is definitely going to die on Monday. Great. She’s dead. Totally dead. “So there’s nothing at all I can do to convince you not to?”

“What do you think?” Heather scoffs, walking even closer to the brunette. Her eyes drill into Veronica’s, icy and set.

Veronica almost doesn’t breathe, her eyes flickering between Heather’s lips and eyes. She’s scared shitless but she hasn’t been this turned on in a while. Okay, it’s more than a little fucked up but she’s always had a thing for white hot anger and Heather’s skirt is so goddamn short and her lips look like she’s glossed them over in blood but in a  _really_ _good_  way and something in Veronica just snaps because maybe she’s had too much to drink and she’s watched one too many couples borderline fucking and maybe Heather stood too close while threatening her.

“If—if there’s definitely no forgiveness here and I’m really a damn dead girl walking…Then there’s one thing I want to do. Fuck, Heather, I need it— _hard_ and since you’re the one who says I’ve gotta go, you’re my last meal on death row,” she says, her voice harsh and way more confident than someone like her should be.

Heather steps back in surprise, her eyes going wide for a second. “Jesus fuck, Veronica, you can’t just tell me you want to eat me like that, you lesbo. After the shit you pulled you think you can just—”

“Goddamn, Heather, can’t you just shut your mouth and lose those lacy panties?” She growls in frustration. Did she read too much into the hands on her legs and jaw and the stares and the lack of personal space? Fuck.

The blonde gulps for a moment, her eyes flickering between Veronica’s own eyes and her lips. “I—you better buy me Corn Nuts,” she grumbles, pulling Veronica into a kiss. It’s teeth tugging at her lip and a tongue brushing hers and hands gripping and feeling around her body until she yanks her head back.

“Get down on all fours,” Veronica commands, pushing Heather down to her knees, “do what I say and then I can be all yours, Heather.”

The red bow and the argyle socks and the fierce eyes don’t look so mighty when she’s like that. Fuck, Veronica almost thinks Heather looks scared when she’s looking up like that, her hands inching up Veronica’s thighs. She looks so fucking obedient, like she’ll do anything the brunette wants. 

Veronica gulps, her hand rising. She isn’t sure quite what compels her to do it but Heather doesn’t flinch before Veronica’s hand swings across her cheek lightly. There’s a power to it that Veronica has never had before. Especially not over Heather Chandler, looking back with her cheek tinted red and her eyes big and willing.

And then she’s kissing up Veronica’s legs, staining them with red. 

There are her teeth or her nails or something dragging themselves against the inside of Veronica’s thighs and—

“Fuck, Heather,” she breathes out.

There’s a smirk pressed against her skin and she falls to her knees. She kisses Heather Chandler far more desperately than she’s ever wanted to before she remembers her goddamn dignity.

Unbuttoning her blazer, she gets up to the bed and opens her legs. “Have you ever eaten—” Heather doesn’t let her finish before her panties are somewhere on the floor and a tongue is  _teasing_  her, flat and wide against her folds like absolutely no one could burst in the room and they have all the time in the world. “Heather,” she hisses, trying not to let the whines slip out of her throat, “someone could find us.”

The licking stops for a moment. Heather’s lips press against her to ask, “what happened to needing it hard, Veronica?” before flicking her tongue.

“Jesus fuck,” Veronica whispers, her hand tugging at Heather’s hair, “do you practice with Heather and Heather or something?”

Teeth graze her, practically nipping at her folds for that comment and Veronica bucks her hips. Shit. She’s giving Heather the upper hand again. Heather who has her head between Veronica’s thighs and her face pressed against her snatch and should be anything but in power right now.

Biting down on her own lip to stop herself from moaning as Heather’s teasing leaves her core aching more and more, Veronica makes up her mind. Slipping the hand not tangled in blonde hair down quickly, she starts rubbing Heather’s breast. It’d be bitchy to not give her anything back, even if she is teasing so damn much. 

“That felt like a yes, Heather,” she whispers, “it’s a nice mental image. Little Heather McNamara with her legs open in her cheerleading uniform and you—” her breath hitches as Heather fucking  _sucks_  on her snatch’s lips for just a second “—the almighty—” Veronica takes a moment to control her breathing, she will not let Heather beat her into submission with her fucking head where it is and on her damn knees “—fingering her and eating her out, on your knees. Or maybe you and Heather Duke, in an angry hate sex kinda way, while getting ready for a date with Kurt and Ram and—and for once, you don’t want her to shut up because she keeps saying your name.”

Something about Veronica saying that either pisses Heather off or turns her on so much that she stops teasing and moves onto Veronica’s clit. If Heather hasn’t done this before—fuck, there’s no way she hasn’t.

“Fuck, Heather,” she breathes out, her fist tightening around the blonde’s hair. “More.”

Heather really doesn’t hesitate to listen. She licks at Veronica’s cunt like she’s done this a thousand times before and all Veronica can do to not let Heather know how much power she has with her head between Veronica’s thighs is bite down on her own lip. She squeezes again on Heather’s breast, rubbing her thumb over it and wishing that she’d taken Heather’s fucking clothes off. 

Her hips are beyond the occasional jerk to push herself against Heather now. She’s full on riding Heather Chandler’s face and if she could think straight, she’d think it must look desperately beautiful.

It’s not like she ever really thought straight but still. Heather licks and sucks so goddamn well that even her vision is blurry.

Veronica grips blonde locks tighter, pulling Heather’s hair before she unravels completely.

Heather pulls away, not bothering with wiping her mouth clean. “God, Veronica, excited much?”

“Do you want me to eat you now, Heather?” spills out of her mouth.

The blonde smirks, her lipstick smeared and  _Veronica_  all over her mouth. She kisses Veronica one last time, all hot mouth and biting teeth. “You taste like fish,” she whispers before trailing her lipstick down Veronica’s jaw and throat. “You’re lucky I like fish.” Heather sucks at Veronica’s neck. There’ll be a hickey in the morning to prove what they did.

“Heather?” the brunette asks, her breath hitching.

“I have to go fuck Ram, Veronica. I might as well be wet for once.”

Veronica can’t help but think Heather Chandler is really fucking beautiful when she leaves. She thinks she’ll tell her next time.


End file.
